This is Berk and I'm an outcast
by Vitanni Russha
Summary: My name's Henry, great name, I know, but the nickname is worse: Hiccup. This is the pretty story about my last year and how my whole world changed. AU Modern. Hiccstrid y un poco de Toothfly (Stormless?)
1. This is Berk

**Disclaimer: "How to train your dragon" is propriety of Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell, I am only using the characters without any payment.**

_Hi everyone! Well, I'm translating this story just because I wanna practice my English and it really seemed a good idea, so here I am :D I think I should explain that I'm writing an Alternative Universe parody story, I mean, I try to write down how the story would be if it happens on our time but with some… changes, there won't be a lot of but there will be (just want Astrid and Hiccup to have a deeper relation, I'm not asking so much :3) Ok, now I'll stop wasting time and make the story begins ;)_

_By the way, if you find any grammar fail or if you want to share some ideas to future chapters, please tell me on the review._

This is Berk. In an optimist point of view, it is north of Hopeless, south of Freezing to Death and exactly over Meridian of Misery. My city in a word it's sturdy and it's been here since Vikings days. We have schools, museums and a charming view of the sunsets but my worst problem is bullying. You see, most guys are tall of full of muscles but not me. I am something like a talking fishbone. My name is Henry, great name, I know, but the nickname is worse: Hiccup (I'll just say that three says of diaphragm contractions and my always willing-to-mock lovely partners is not a good combination).

My father is the mayor of the city and if you're thinking that it would bring me some popularity, you're wrong. It only bring me the responsibility of fill up big shoes (really big ones).

A slam dunk in basket is sure to get me at least noticed. Rugby players are tough, to tackle down one of those would definitely get me a girlfriend. Parkour? Exotic. Twice the status. Then there's football, only the stronger ones play it. I bet you're dying to know what extracurricular class I'm in, don't you? Well, it's exactly the one you're thinking… that's right! Mechanical engineering. Yes, I know, it sounds nerd… and so it is.

The lunchtime bell rings and in my life it only means one pack of things: evade everything someone will throw at me, stay out of everybody's way and try to eat something. I get into the lunchroom and no one notices me, why would them? Instinctively go to my remote hidden table to, typical of outcast, when I met my adorable cousin Snotlout. I know what you're thinking, something like "gross nickname", but he prefers this one I modestly invented (and for my surprise everyone started calling him like this) than his real name: "Eugenie". In the moment I saw him I really daydreamed with becoming invisible or disappear from Earth because… well, he was the quarterback and my own bully. I guess he was having a good day because he only pushed me against the wall and mumbled "Take off my way, you useless!" Believe it or not he was more considered than other times.

He came along the crowd to get to the "popular kids table", to sit with the Thorston twins, Tuffnut and Ruffnut (Zack and Zoey respectively), Heather Smith (cheerleaders co-captain) with three of her subordinates, a pair of guys of the football team and… Astrid. She is, basically, the perfect girl prototype, I mean, she's really excellent doing any sport, the captain of the volleyball team and the cheerleader with great grades, an untouchable reputation and a really hot body. What? I'm an outcast, but I'm not blind. I've been in love with her since… always, just as every guy in the school.

Shit. I have only three minutes to eat my sandwich before Math class. Definitely to think too much in Astrid is not healthy, and less for me for a simple and obvious fact: I'm invisible to her. I technically don't exist in her world… and that's kind of frustrating but just a bit. Now I better run to my locker before I have to mess up with someone undesirable… if you know which cousin of mine I'm talking about.


	2. This guy is totally crazy!

**Disclaimer: "How to train your dragon" is propriety of Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell, I am only using the characters without any payment.**

_Hi again! I'm so happy about what people told me on the reviews and so thankful to everyone who read it that you can't even imagine how much! So here are some replies to the reviews:_

_Wingheart525: Thanks you :D and I have you a good new: you have to wait no more! Down here is the new chapter_

_AngryHenry: Thanks a lot! :D I'm so glad you liked it!_

_Karismatic: Astrid was a little trouble when I started, I mean, I'm not American and I don't even have a clue about what the schools are like except of what movies show, so I had to use prototypes. In part of the original monologue Hiccup says that the guys' work was "cooler" so I thought "Astrid must be popular for being the best (so Hiccup could beat her up later), completely cool and the exactly opposite of a wallflower" and the first thing that came to my mind was "cheerleaders" because, let face it, every single movie reflect cheerleaders as "the ideals dummy blondies" who go to a lot of parties and are girlfriends of the whole football team. I know that the prototype and Astrid is not a good mix, but then I remembered that in some fics I read she was someway obliged to be the best in everything and she has forced herself to mess into things like cheerleaders and brainless people to "keep the look". After a lot of time thinking possibilities I decided that this one is the best, especially for the end. Well, you're right, this one was the chapter and the next it's a little bit longer, but the third is pretty long enough to be really called a chapter. Thanks you a lot of saying me what you think :D that's really important to me and if you have an answer, critique or whatever please tell me, I would be glad to read it ;)_

_Guest: Maybe maybe…. I don't decide it yet_

_I'm thinking about making a chapter in Astrid P.O.V., what do you think?_

After Math I have Science and English and nothing extraordinary happened, thanks Odin and all Nordic deities, but I won't taste my luck so far so I wait until barely everyone goes away to go to the parking lot and look for my moped and… to realize that it's impossible for someone like me to have one day without any problems. Have you ever heard someone saying "too good to be real"? Well, that shit is true. A troglodyte left some beautiful and gorgeous holes on my motorcycle's tires as a welcome gift. That's just great.

I think my only salvation is to push this thing to the nearest mechanical workshop and it is almost over… let's see… twelve blocks. Yep, my life is really good crap.

— I'm fucked up!

— Hahaha, what's up Hiccup? Did you break your little toy? —oh, Snotlout, I even started to miss you.

— Watch out! Hiccup's angry! Run for your life! Hahaha. Go home to cry for you motorbike —Tuffnut, what a good thing to see you.

— Little baby, little baby! —the twins were singing with a fucking mocking tone. By the way, now I know who did that.

Ok, maybe if I act as I don't hear them, they will go; if I act as I act as I don't hear them, they will go; if I act as I…. no, I better go. Now I'm pushing this useless thing down the street as fast as I can (shit, it's fucking heavy) to get out of here. I turn to make sure no one is following me and I see her. Astrid is passing by and she's looking at me with a… sorry face. Great, the girl of my dreams (you can imagine WICH kind of dreams I'm talking about, if you know what I mean) is looking at me with pity.

I get to the mechanical workshop barely dying and out of breath and the guy who checked my motorbike told me that there is no way to fix it up, the only solution is to change the tires, but they must be of a special size, blah blah blah, and he talked for an hour about how many types of tires exist on the world and how much work he had and a lot of things I don't care to finally tell me that he'll have the parts I need tomorrow's evening. Yep, the gods hate me. Now I have to go back home walking.

I started my way while I curse every deity I know when I feel something hitting my head. Oh, hell, here I go again.

— Hey kid! Sorry! Can you give us back the ball?

I turn myself to the right and the guy who's talking me is tall with black hair and green eyes and he's wearing a baseball uniform, all surrounded by 10 years old kids. It clearly shows that they were playing and he's the umpire or the coach. There's a really tall wire fence and I'm really sure that I can't throw the ball above it, so I go through a relatively big gate with a lot of drawings and doodles on it to get into the camp.

— Here you have —I tell him while I hand him the ball.

— Hey, do you want to stay? I'm teaching the kids; maybe I can help you to improve your arm.

— Mmm, I think n…

— I understand that as a "yes". What do you know about the game?

— I'm telling you that I don't….

— Don't worry; you'll play as right fielder. If you see ball flying to your field, catch it and take it down the catcher spot.

— But I'm not…

—Hey guys! This is… what was your name like?

— Hiccup —this guy is totally crazy.

— This here is Hiccup; he'll be the right fielder. Ronnie, take your arm to rest, I'll be the pitcher —he turns at me and says — Pay attention, next time's your turn.

Better I pass over this part because everything is happening so fast that wow, I can hardly realize it, I mean, I've been playing for more than half hour and no one told me "useless" or "drag". Wow, that's a new record.

— Good practice guys! See you tomorrow. Hey you, Hiccup! I want to talk to you. All the others, I want you all to take a shower after leaving, I don't want anyone's mom to complain about your athlete smelly.

I must admit that the joke was funny but I prefer not to laugh to look mature… because playing with kids because someone forced you and you did nothing refuse is totally mature.

I'm just saying.

— Hey, I'm Derek but everyone call me Toothless… it's a long story. Look, I never play with children, I'm on the school team and I want you to join us.

— So Uncle Toothless wants me to join the team? —I say with sarcasm… funny sarcasm I hope.

— Exactly. You have potential.

Wow. Double wow. Someone wants me to join a sport team. Toothless thinks that me, Hiccup the Useless, has potential to baseball. I simply can't believe it.

I'm about to accept when I remember a little detail: I'm not in this school. I'm a student of Berk High School, and right now I'm in Berk High Education Institute… did I say that our schools are enemies in every single sport since… always.

— If you don't know, I'm not studying here. I can't join any team.

— Don't worry about that. The coach is really idle, he never goes to the practices and he even put me in charge of the team on the first day. I'll tell the others and they won't say a word, trust me.

— Well…. I can try, but I tell you by now that I'm a useless talking fishbone. I really suck.

— Everybody sucks with no practice ever. You have potential; I've already told you… let see how much I'm right on Wednesday. Come here after your classes, right?

— Ok.


	3. But why didn't he?

**Disclaimer: "How to train your dragon" is propriety of DreamWorks and Cressida Cowell, I am only using the characters without any payment.**

_Just for remember you I'm doing this translating because I want some practice for my English speaking. If you have something to say, whatever it is, please, review. I would appreciate it a lot. _

I really don't want dad to know about Toothless and baseball because, well… I can tell you two big causes: first, he hates this sport (he doesn't understand how a sport is playable for people without stretch or height), I can even say that he would prefer me playing hide and seek with a tomato than playing baseball. The second motive is a bit complicated: the Berk Vikings ("Viking" is the nickname of the sport teams in my school, like hockey Vikings, football Viking…) have been enemies of the Dragons (teams of Toothless' school) since… forever, they hate each other with all their soul and spirit; I can add that the rivalry is millenarian… aw, I just remembered that dad was a star Viking, the best of his generation… and mine… and the passed one, well, you understand what I mean.

I get into home and see dad over a sofa with a face that's telling "problems are coming so here's the end of any peace desire".

— I need to speak with you, son. I've talked with Gobber and he commented something about a little team for sports intensive classes. It's been years since you started wanting to join a team but you never could…

— No one ever let me —shit, I can see it coming.

— Alright, you got your wish. Sport training with Gobber. You start tomorrow after school.

— Uh, I was thinking, you know we have surplus of sportsmen but… do we have enough chess players? Or debaters?

— You'll need this — he says as he gives me a pad set, can you see how much he trusts me? Anyway, I avoid taking it.

— I don't want to train.

— Come on. Yes you do.

— Rephrase. Dad, I can't train with Gobber.

— But you will train with Gobber. And you will win.

— No, I'm really very extra sure that I won't.

— It's time Hiccup.

— Can you not hear me?

— This is serious son! When you wear the uniform, you carry all the team with you. This means you walk like them. You talk like them. You think like them. No more of… this.

— You just gestured to all of me.

— Deal?

— This conversation is feeling very one-sided.

— Deal?!

—Deal.

— Good. Train hard. I must go on a business trip. I'll be back. Probably.

— And I'll be here. Maybe.

He turns around, grabs his suitcase and goes out. Oh, great, I'm REALLY fucked up.

Well I guess I must explain about Gobber: he's dad's best friend, the only one who really helped when mom died. He works in my school as P. E. teacher and also has a gym where I usually go… to fix up the machines (remember Mechanical engineering classes?). But the case is kind of bigger because the intensive classes that dad talked about are just an excuse invented by Gobber to improve the athletes and confront them with the Dragons. Whether it be to amend the reputation or to keep the rivalry. Anyway, this shit will be a mess.

What can I do? What can I say to go out? How can I…? Maybe if I don't appear on the gym today? Nope, Gobber knows where I live, he even has keys… and he'll tell dad. What about if I do everything wrong? Bad idea. He's waiting for that. Disappearing without traces? Mayb…

— Woooohooooo! We're free!

Wait, what?! THE CLASSES ARE OVER? Oh no, no, no, no, no! This is fucking wrong! It's decided: I go. I run after the gate when suddenly I face Gobber. Shit, he was waiting for me.

— Hiccup, where are you going?

— To Terabithia?

— C'mon man! The gym's waiting.

He drags me to the gym, where I can see Snotlout, Fishlegs (defense of the football team), Tuffnut, Ruffnut and Astrid. Did I mention these classes are V.I.P.? The best lesson for the best players.

Gobber stands right in the front of the gym's door and loudly says:

— Welcome to the training!

— No turning back —says Astrid on a quiet tone. Man, that's strange… I mean, I thought she liked all this stuff, doesn't she?

— I hope I get serious strokes —comments Tuffnut.

— I'm hoping for some sprains, like in shoulders or in the back —Ruff adds.

— Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it or if you end up in the hospital.

— Yeah, no kidding, right? Pain. Love it.

Shit. Everybody turns to me and groans.

— Oh great, who let him in? —thanks you for your support Tuff, really.

Gobber opens up the door and let us goes inside. Here are some guys waiting for us, they're bouncing red balls. Oh man, I can see it coming. We will play prison ball, I bet it.

— Let's get started! Today you'll play prison ball with those guys from the High Education Institute. It's just a friendly game to get into the environment. Now catch the balls and play.

Friendly?! Friendly are my guts, I can feel the hate. This feels like a shitty armed conflict. Fuck, here it comes. Finally it starts and the balls beats are fucking tough. Now I'm doing evasive action so I hide myself behind the thing which is used to save the balls. Whatever you call it.

Ruff and Tuff are discussing because them two want the same ball. Yeah, while there are almost two hundred around. And the unavoidable happened: just one shoot and now they both are out. After them, Fishlegs was.

— Hey Astrid, 'm moving into my parent's basement. You should come to sometime to work out. You look like you work out…

Hahaha! The asshole of Snotlout got his face stroked. Congratulate the one who did it for me!

— Hiccup! Get in there! —crap, he noticed.

I grab a ball and then stand behind Astrid. Well, if he did I can try.

— So I guess it's just you and me, huh?

— No. Just you —and she rolls away avoiding a shoot which beats me up.

Okay, I'm out, I can go. I turn over my own feet and then I feel a really hard stroke on my back. Fucking shit, it was fucking tough… even I fell flat. Oh great, my life is awesome.

—Game over. Dragons win, Viking lose. See you around —Gobber says. Well, this can't be better, please, notice the sarcasm.

I stand up, go out of the gym and take the left hall, the longer way. I'm not so crazy to take the way them all will take, I mean, I'm not a suicide. Almost not yet. Suddenly I feel someone pulling me against the lockers. Oh man, it's Astrid.

— Are you a fool? Never turn your back at Dragons. Never. They always go for the kill.

She sets me free and goes away. Well that's strange, and awesome, but strange. On the other side… if they always go for the kill… why didn't Toothless?


End file.
